


The Goldilocks Zone

by Suchsmallhands



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Raising Harry Potter, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchsmallhands/pseuds/Suchsmallhands
Summary: Raising Harry in secret, in a world where Sirius stole away with Harry instead of going to kill Peter.Padfoot waited like a sentinel at the end of the country lane where Harry’s bus would drop him off. The lane was rough grey dirt lined with yellow heather, which would become green towards the summer. The dog’s head held high and his ears pointed forward, grey eyes watching for the bus.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115





	The Goldilocks Zone

Padfoot waited like a sentinel at the end of the country lane where Harry’s bus would drop him off. The lane was rough grey dirt lined with yellow heather, which would become green towards the summer. The dog’s head held high and his ears pointed forward, grey eyes watching for the bus.

His fur smelled like the day he’d spent outside, watching Harry’s school from the trees behind. He could just see the kids come out for recess if he lingered on the edge of the forest by the primary school. He typically apparated there and changed forms every other day or so at recess time, just to check on him, and then he’d go back home. To sleep or clean or cook, or sleep some more.

The first years of learning how to raise a child had been surprisingly hard. Looking back he’d think he was glad James and Lily at least had Euphemia and Fleamont to help them, but then security had been so tight they’d only just barely seen the child much less helped the young parents. And then they’d been killed.

He flicked an ear, trying to flick away the memory. He and Remus had been on their own with Harry in hiding. Sirius could remember the way he clung to each day, one at a time, just making it through nappies and baby crying and keeping him alive. He’d been so wracked with terror they’d be caught, grief over James and Lily and Regulus, and exhaustion in just keeping up with an infant, that he’d not even had the time to focus on Remus, to cling.

He still wonders how they’d stayed together. How Remus had stayed with him. On the back end of the suspicions and their crumbled love and their broken hearts. And the responsibility of Harry.

But Sirius would be holding a baby, hair tied back in a frayed bun, shirt still wet from a bath, and Remus would arrive through the door with groceries and a little bit of money. Sirius would keep patting his godson’s back and whisper hello to him, face stressed and still numb with war pains, and let Remus make dinner.

And by none of Sirius’ doing, he’d keep coming home every day for the last six years.

The sound of the bus reached the dog’s ears before he could see it. The smiling boy and his little kid glasses hopped off the bus, dwarfed by a backpack with puppies on it, and yelled _Padfoot!_ as he crashed into the dog’s neck. Padfoot wagged his tale and leaned into Harry’s hug, shepherding him off down the lane as the bus roared and grumbled away. Harry started talking on and on about his day right away as Padfoot sniffed his clothes and caught the scent of the lunch he’d packed for him this morning, the teacher’s perfume, play putty, playground mulch. He kept his eyes up and watching for any sudden death eater attacks until they took a left off the lane and into a copse of trees.

Sirius changed and scooped him up with a smile.

“Alright darling, off we go.”

“Off we go!” Harry shouted with a wiggle and Sirius apparated them both to the Fidelius hidden cottage in the Welsh north.

-

Harry was asleep in bed, one of the positive aspects of having to send him to school every day. He’s usually ready to sleep at night.

Remus was writing a letter to Minnie. They still wouldn’t tell anyone where they were and she would never want to know. But six years of getting away with keeping Harry had at least seemed to relax the need to restrict all information from Dumbledore.

Remus always suspected he could have found them if he’d tried in the beginning. But somehow it had never happened.

In the kitchen, Sirius’ mind flashes to Halloween night. His wand stunning Hagrid, disappearing with Harry. To this day he struggled with the thought of what he could have done – should have done – tracking Peter down and killing him. Harry was more important at the time, he tells himself. He blinks his eyes and sweeps away the thoughts.

Sirius finished arranging lunches for Harry and Remus, packing them both neatly and putting them away for tomorrow. Remus had taught him how to use muggle appliances during the summers when they were teenagers and they’d all visit the Lupin’s on occasion. And Lily would have used muggle methods to feed Harry, so he most often did it this way. He’d certainly never learned to cook like wizards do. Food in the Black household had been elf made almost exclusively. At least he’d never done anything in the Black kitchen.

He made tea and a cut an apple for Remus, setting it down beside him. He hummed his scratchy thank you and looked over Sirius with those light brown eyes as he walked back to the kitchen to clean it until it was spotless.

“You make me lunch every day, you know.” Remus said quietly in the gentle night dark house.

“I have noticed.” Sirius hummed, wiping down the stove. He could use magic to do it but if he did that he’d be left trying to figure out what else to do besides loping around the moor as Padfoot. On busier days, it does come in handy.

“I could just go find food while I’m out at work. Or make it myself.” He offered.

“Why spend the money? Also, you’d make yourself something tasteless. And you don’t feed yourself well.” He rinsed the towel he was using and squeezed it out.

Remus, a good peace keeper when he had the mind, left it at that. Sirius could hear him thinking about the earlier years when Sirius hadn’t fed himself well. He’d used what he now knew was an irrational justification for not eating – that it left more for Harry in case they needed it. Remus had caught on and made his silent but effective way about getting him to eat.

“You’re tired.” Remus said. Sirius stopped arranging the contents of the refrigerator and rubbed his brow with his thumb, rising and shutting the door.

“Ever the observer.” He sighed pleasantly, coming over to lean on the counter nearer to the dining table. “A hawk’s eye you have, dear.”

He crossed his arms and noticed Remus’ eyes flickering at his shoulders and chest. Sirius asked after McGonagall and he told her what news she had.

“You weren’t home today.” Remus tipped his head at him. Pretty, warm auburn eyes, just one or two grey hairs which Sirius blames on the war and which he finds good looking, and familiar face.

“Who told you that?” He raised a fine brow. Remus smiled gently and laughed at the thought of someone knowing anything about Sirius.

“I came home around lunch time.”

Sirius met his eyes quietly for a moment, thoughts moving behind his gaze restlessly like they always have. “I was checking on Harry.”

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore.” Remus murmured. Of course was probably already somewhat aware of it.

“Doesn’t hurt to make sure he’s safe. It’s only been about a year of school.”

God knows the first year had done work on Sirius’ nerves. He’d been perfectly determined Harry needed to have a normal education. But his safety reigned perennially dominant over other needs.

“Constant vigilance…” Remus gave him a gentle look that suggested to him he could perhaps ease up.

“Works. Is a good idea.” Sirius dismissed, even though he found some comfort in the suggestion from Remus that he could relax.

“Alright.” Remus exhaled quietly and stretched his leg under the table, putting away his letter. “We should get to bed.”

Sirius blinked slowly at the idea, a very good idea. He spent the time undressing in the bedroom with yawning and shifting comfortably around in bed before Remus joined. They had not slept together at first. In the beginning it had been mostly Sirius sleeping in bed with Harry under one hand or with his arm curled around him. Remus would sleep on the couch or in another bed.

They’d both allowed themselves to ignore their relationship in favor of raising Harry and staying hidden, doing all the work that came with it, until somewhere along the way they’d regained comfort with each other. A few years passed before they had actually had sex and that too had been a snap of impulse on Sirius’ part and they’d fucked without talking about it. Then that too molded into something more stable.

He hadn’t asked Remus why he’d stayed, taking care of Harry and sharing home with Sirius, because he couldn’t quite erase the bad taste in his mouth of the questioning him. Doubting him. Somewhere in his mind where he wouldn’t inspect, the question would press him with guilt. 

But on nights like this he was glad regardless of the reason.

-

Sirius always had faith in Remus. Despite the secrecy and mortal threats during the war, he really had always had a high expectation of Remus and trust in his companionship. But he was guilty. Ashamed of so many losses. And terrified of being left.

He wondered why James had been so easily unwavering in his faith in Remus while he himself had started to question. He saw it as a mark of blackness on his spirit.

-

Remus comes home every day around roughly six or seven. His jobs have changed over time and his hours have varied. But he’s had a steady gig now for some time and he has a routine. Sometimes he’ll come home a little later but rarely ever too late to see Harry to bed.

Every day when he arrives, Sirius is almost without fail at the house. He typically has Harry doing homework or playing or watching a movie in the living room. He’s watching the door when Remus comes home.

Today, he notes the way Sirius’ features sooth when he steps inside. Harry hops up from in front of the TV, he was watching _The Fox And The Hound,_ and comes over to say hello to Uncle Moony and hang on his arm. Remus gives him a proper hello and ruffle of his hair. Sirius is sitting on the couch with a leg crossed over the other, watching with a calm face and relaxed shoulders. Less like the dog watching the door than when he’d stepped inside.

When putting away his things, Remus opens the little drawer in the desk beside the bed where Sirius keeps all the napkins that Harry gets for his lunches at school. Remus tries to always draw a picture or some encouraging words on Harry’s napkins which he leaves for Sirius to pack in his lunches before Harry goes in the morning. When he gets home from school, Sirius unpacks his lunch box and has saved every napkin. Harry doesn’t seem to use them, perhaps because he likes the pictures.

They take Harry on a walk outside before supper, Sirius going along as Padfoot because it’s just a little safer. After Harry’s gone to sleep, Remus sits outside with him in the chairs beside the backdoor. He chats quietly with him about the day while Sirius smokes a cigarette. He tells him about the still dormant death eater army, news from Dumbledore and Minnie and the remaining members of the Order.

“Your hair is getting a bit long, hm?” Remus nods to him. Sirius quirks a brow and sighs quietly.

“Suppose.” He puts the cigarette in the tray on the little wrought iron table between them, and pulls his hair back into a loose bun at his neck. “I’ll trim it soon.” He murmurs quietly and picks the cigarette back up to flick off the ash and take another drag.

Sirius has been grounded now for some six years. Sure he still gets stir crazy and sometimes he confesses to Remus _do you ever wish you were still killing death eaters?_ In the dark with a sort of distant bloody look. _No. I can’t say I do._ Remus had whispered. _I do._ He’d breathed and the quiet after those two words had been hard to break between them. But Harry kept him from making rash decision. And raising a child made good use of all his boundless energy, he was actually fairly suited to it. And James’ death had sobered his soul, matured it in one night, never to go back to the way it was.

Remus thinks back to the loud and reckless boy he’d been when they were young. He smiles to himself, staring off at the wind running through the open meadow behind the house. They pulled pranks because they would get bored. If things lulled too much, then the next thing he knew there would be firecrackers in the corridor, or the great hall floor turned to an ice rink.

“I remember what it looked like short.” Remus said. “When you’d come back from summer holiday.”

“Hm.” Sirius hummed with gentle derision. “Thank you Walburga.”

“You looked very handsome.” Remus said softly. “At least you had that.”

“I always looked handsome.” Sirius gave him a humorous glance, “But thank you.”

Wasn’t that the truth. Even fourteen year old Remus had thought he looked deadly good with his newly short hair. He’d always prefer him like this though, the way he wanted to be.

Remus smiled at him and chuckled under his breath. He was warmed by a fondness for him. He always felt as if he’d escaped the war with more than he should have. Sirius and Harry were all he had left from it. His school days were a temporary heaven. The Goldilocks zone of boyhood and friendship. The Garden of Eden had been a grand surprise to the eleven year old boy, the wonder of school he’d been so excited to attend. When they’d left school and everything had turned to shit, it almost seemed natural to Remus. He was grateful now for what he had left from the carnage.

He’d think of what could be and shiver.

He looked over at him. His eyes glowing faintly for a moment from the cigarette. The wind whispered and a cricket croaked in the grasses.

“You’ve saved all the napkins I draw on for Harry.” Remus rasped. Sirius raised a brow at him.

“Of course.” His voice was higher with softness. “I like them.”

The quiet lulled between them for a bit.

“I think Harry might, perhaps, like them when he’s older.” He said while looking away. “He’s as much your godson as mine.”

Remus didn’t reply to that but thought immediately of the untruth in this statement. Harry was Sirius’. Remus was Sirius’, too. Of course, both of them knew Remus was already ready to give his life on command for Harry, both of them would kill for him. He was Remus’ first priority now. The only person on earth who Remus would place over Sirius. His nephew, his best friend’s son. He missed Lily like a pain in his chest sometimes and he’d protect the green of her eyes in Harry’s gaze until he died. And he was raising him.

But James and Sirius were brothers, and he’d named Sirius as godfather. Knowing well the possibility of his own death.

Sirius had cried when Harry called him ‘Dada’ as a baby. Remus had had to hold Harry and smile and coo at him while Sirius took some privacy.

“Pads,” Remus murmured gently. Sirius looked back at him, eyes stormy. “I think you need to find something to do when Harry’s at school, now.”

“Why do you say that.” Sirius scowled. Remus did wonder why such a smart person would ask questions he knew the answers to.

“You’re guarding Harry all day at school.” He said matter of fact. “And you wait for me to come home every day.”

“I’ve always done that.” Sirius snapped but grit his teeth in regret. “Not that I don’t… It’s not – I just want to see you… when you get home.”

“I know, love.” Remus said. “It’s okay.”

Sirius closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, breathing shallowly. They’d been through the apologies for their loss of faith in each other during the war. Remus could see though, the mark where that healed wound still was between them.

“Sirius, what’s wrong.” Remus asked, even though he rarely did. When so much has been wrong for so long, you learn not to ask because you know generally what it is.

Sirius put a hand to his face to rub his brow, a frustrated look on his face.

“What am I going to tell Harry when he gets older?” He asked.

“About what part.” His voice was gravely and steady.

“About Lily. And James.” He whispered. He didn’t respond at first. The crickets chirped in the grass.

“You’ll have to tell him what happened.” Remus murmured. Sirius shook his head and leaned forward to put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. “He’s not going to blame you for it.”

“Why did I do that.” Sirius barely whispered.

“Because we trusted Peter. Every one of us thought he was just the same, as he’d always been.” Sirius laughed at this horribly.

“And it was you that I doubted.”

He looked on him kindly.

“I was afraid of losing you.” Remus said gently. “We were so young. And there were so many secrets. We both made mistakes.”

“I’m sorry.” Sirius shook his head.

“I know.” Remus frowned in his eyes. “But you know that making me food and watching me come home isn’t going do any good. You don’t need to do those things for us to be okay.”

Sirius sucked little labored breaths.

“I lost Regulus. And James... And Lilly.” The image of her beautiful hair shining in the sun flickered in Remus’ mind. Her sensible, warm and strong friendship. “I think I’m just going a little crazy trying not to do the same with you.”

“I’m here, Sirius.” Remus murmured quietly. “It’s going to be fine…”

He saw him sigh at that, tiredly.

“None of those things were your fault.” Remus said. It was almost cruel. Sometimes wounds are so raw that tending to them can be more painful than leaving them alone. It could hurt to receive forgiveness.

Sirius had nothing to say to that and they were silent for a long time, just watching the night and the stars. It was a waning moon.

Remus thought about Sirius. The heir to the house of Black, raising a babe in secret in Wales, in undeniable love with a half-blood and a werewolf. Queer as a queen. Wild and unruly from the start, so much himself that it could never be denied, the world bent around his spirit. So far away from what the world expected of him.

Wondering how he could have loved so many so wholly and failed them in the end.

“Let’s get to bed, babe.” Remus murmured. They flicked off lights as they traveled through the quiet house. Domestic rituals winding, dwindling, winking to a close at the end of the night. Sirius lay with his head on Remus’ chest in bed. Fingers drawing through silky black hair.

Maybe Remus didn’t cling to it like Sirius did. But he knew his life raft when he saw it, his family. His obligation.

He kissed Sirius’ hair.

He wanted to keep playing Queen songs to see if Sirius would light up to them, smile and dance and sing like he would when they were kids. He’d always been the bigger Kate Bush fan but no one could rival Sirius for singing _Wuthering Heights._

He wanted to keep weathering lost years until they found a place that felt like steady ground. So he could see them through. So he could see Sirius go back to being self-assured until arrogance. So he could become an old weary lycanthrope, wealthy beyond his most idealistic expectations in family and belonging.

Scarred and missing friends, but still here. Inexplicably lingering on the fringes of some Goldilocks zone.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: thisshipsailsitselff


End file.
